You're Worth It!
by AttitudeQueen5287
Summary: Stephanie and Chris have an interesting conversation. NOT a Smoochy fic, but it does portray them both in a positive light. FIRST FANFIC EVER! PLEASE READ AND REVIEW. *Rating change due to mild swearing.
1. Chapter 1

_Sooo, this is my FIRST fanfic EVER and I hope it turns out well! Since today is my birthday and I've been meaning to post something for a while now, I figured I'd go ahead and post this now. I hope this is well-received. Reviews would be greatly appreciated!_

Stephanie McMahon-Levesque was a reasonably patient woman. She had to be, what with having 3 kids and all. Her daughters, though she loved them to death, could be quite a handful. Her eldest was five and her youngest was only a year old. Parenthood, Stephanie had learned from her mother, could sometimes be viewed as a war: you had to pick your battles wisely if you wanted to win the war. 'Know when to concede defeat and when to hold steadfast to your decision, no matter how irritable your child became.' Yes, if you wanted peace in your home, you had to know when to say 'yes,' when to say 'no,' and how to disguise your 'no' as a 'there's always next time.' Being patient at home certainly paid its dividends.

But home wasn't the only place where Stephanie had to be very patient. She had to be extremely patient at work as well. She was the Executive Vice President of Creative Development and Operations of World Wrestling Entertainment (better known by its acronym, WWE). WWE was a global phenomenon – a sports entertainment juggernaut that grossed billions of dollars annually. Stephanie's father Vincent Kennedy McMahon was the Chairman of the Board and CEO of WWE. Her mother Linda used to be the CEO, but quit on account of her running for a seat in the Senate from their home state of Connecticut. Stephanie's older brother Shane – her only sibling – had left the company recently; so when her father retired or passed away, it would be up to her to lead the company. And Stephanie couldn't wait for that day to arrive!

At a very early age, Stephanie realized that she LOVED the family business. She loved the idea of entertaining millions of people on a weekly basis. She loved that something as brutal as fighting and as beautiful as storytelling could be combined to give the spectators something extraordinary – a cross between a soap opera and _Gladiator_. The wrestling was still the main focus, but there were stories to go along with it. It wasn't just senseless beating up of opponent after opponent. It was fueled by passion, by the drive to prove yourself as the best by obtaining a championship, by the determination to show that you belonged there, and by the need to seek revenge for 'being wronged' by another wrestler. The seamless blending of the fighting and storytelling is what had captivated Stephanie.

As she grew older, Stephanie realized that she wanted to be a part of the family business. She wanted to be part of the creative process that led to these storylines getting approved and these rivalries playing out LIVE on t.v. She wanted to witness the thrill of the crowd when their favorite superstar won his match and to hear the jeers of the crowd when a despised superstar stole a victory or cut a promo in which they belittled the other superstars and the audience. Stephanie _knew_ that the WWE was where she wanted to work.

The WWE being a male-dominated business meant that Stephanie had to be extremely patient. She had to be patient with her coworkers, who often underestimated her simply because she was young and not as experienced as the rest of them. [But what she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in creativity. They just refused to admit it.] She had to be even more patient with her employees, who looked at her warily. Many believed that the only reason she held a position in the company was simply because of her last name; they deemed her unworthy to lead the company. Thus, Stephanie had to work extra hard to prove that she, indeed, belonged in that office and that she was fit to lead the company to a brighter future.

A brighter future could only be attained by drawing in more crowds and keeping their interests. This of course depended on the superstars putting on great matches and cutting convincing promos before matches. And superstars would perform well if they were happy. 'Happy employees equal happy office,' her father had said. And happy employees who performed better delivered a better product, which was the ultimate goal of the WWE.

Stephanie knew all this, which is why she had agreed to let a certain blond superstar leave the company. _Twice! _

Patiently, Stephanie had listened to him tell her how he was exhausted, so burnt out – physically and mentally – that he felt he could no longer perform to the best of his abilities. And if he couldn't do that, then what good was he to her _or_ to the company? So, reluctantly, she had released him from his contract and allowed him to pursue other interests. He had done a host of other things, but after a year away from the ring, he was more than ready to get back into his wrestling trunks, lace up those wrestling boots and step into the squared circle, to tell off the thousands in attendance (and the millions more watching at home) that they were 'nothing but foul, loathsome, gelatinous, mealy-mouthed, hypocrites; parasites, really.' Those lines certainly incited the crowd and Stephanie was amused and amazed that he could elicit equally strong reactions from the crowd, whether he was a heel or a face.

According to him, he was the best in the world at what he did. And Stephanie had to give credit where credit was due. The man was good on the mic, great in the ring and just an all-around nice person to work with. So when he had called her out of the blue and asked to meet him at a particular café that was low-key, so that paparazzi would be less likely to spot them there, she had agreed. They had decided on a time that would be convenient for both of them.

"1 p.m. _sharp_. And don't be late! I **hate** waiting!" Stephanie nearly hissed into the cell phone.

"Don't worry," he chuckled. "I know the whole 'time is money' mantra you McMahons abide by, so I'll definitely show up on time. See you then, Steph."

When Stephanie checked her watch for the third time in two minutes, she began to lose her composed stance and face. She checked her cell phone and sure enough, it confirmed that it was indeed 1:35. 'Where the hell is he?' she fumed in her head. 'I hate being made to wait. It makes me feel like I'm being stood up. Ugh! I'm gonna kill him when he gets here.'

As Stephanie's patience wore thin, she began fidgeting. She smoothed out her wrinkle-free black skirt and readjusted her satin navy blue blouse. She removed her feet from her navy blue Jimmy Choo shoes and returned her feet into the pumps. She checked her black Louis Vuitton purse for the twentieth time to make sure that her keys and make-up were there and that she hadn't received any new texts or e-mails on her Blackberry.

Stephanie sighed audibly. Yes, Stephanie McMahon-Levesque was a patient woman… but even the most patient people had their limits.


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow. Thanks to everyone who read this first chapter and took some interest in it. I really appreciate all the feedback I've received. Thank you _alliscrazy_ for adding my story to your favorites. Thank you _jadeMK11_ for putting my story on story alert AND for the birthday wish And a BIG thank-you to _LevesqueFan1_ for not only leaving a review but also a wonderful, heartfelt and inspirational message, urging me to continue writing. And did you seriously add me to your 'favorite author' list after just reading the first chapter of my first story EVER? ::shakes head in disbelief:: thanks for the love guys and keep it coming _

Christopher Keith Irvine was no fool. Nor was he suicidal. Which is why he was silently praying that Stephanie had gotten stuck in traffic as well.

'Not likely,' Chris mused. 'I'm sure she left extra early to make sure that she could choose what table to sit at and so she could watch me come in all flustered while she sat there, all calm and collected.'

Muttering a string of nearly inaudible curses under his breath, Chris checked his watch for the tenth time in two minutes and found that he couldn't will the second hand from ticking away and making him even later. He paused to admire the watch; it was a silver Bulgari watch with a black dial. It had been a gift from his wife for his 40th birthday. No way would he have spent $2500 on a watch! Sure, he was wealthy enough to afford it without a second thought, but that wasn't the problem. Chris just wasn't flashy. Why spend two grand on a watch when a two hundred dollar watch did the job just as well?

"Oh, stop it!" Jessica had scolded playfully. "If you won't spoil yourself every once in a while, then I will. After all, it's your money I'm spending." She winked and smiled and Chris felt himself relenting. He never could disagree with her for long. Twelve years of marriage had shown him that when Jessica made up her mind, arguing with her would prove futile.

Chris had a flashback to when his dad had been giving him some last minute tips and fatherly advice on his big day. He was waiting to walk outside to the altar (Jess had insisted on an outdoor wedding). "Remember son," Ted Irvine continued. "Happy wife equals happy life. So do yourself a favor – unless the issue is worth fighting over, don't! It'll make your life that much more pleasant if you're not fighting about little things. Trust me, you'll thank me someday."

Of course, Chris had never actually thanked his father for that oh-so-heavenly piece of advice. It had saved him from spending many a night on the couch. Had he pursued those worthless points of contention, surely Jessica would have punished him with the silent treatment or gone on crazy shopping sprees to max out his credit cards. Or worse, established a 'no sex until you've learned your lesson and apologized' stint. It wouldn't matter if he did apologize – he'd have to know _why_. And if he didn't know, she certainly wouldn't tell him. It was one of those things he could never figure out about women. What? Was he supposed to be _psychic_?

Thankfully, he never had that last type of encounter with her. 'I really should thank dad for that sage bit of wisdom he passed on that day. It was probably a lifesaver.'

Of course, he should have also listened to his gut more often. Like this morning, when Jessica had called and tried to convince him not to return to the WWE. He looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Jess. He knew he probably should get ready and head out for his meeting with Stephanie, but a part of him wondered if maybe something was wrong with one of the kids. At that unpleasant thought, he hit 'accept' on his phone and made his first mistake of the day. His second had been not getting off the phone with her until a whole hour later. _That_ had been an almost torturous experience.

"Chris, please, I'm begging you to reconsider," Jess pleaded. "You've already left the company, _twice_! There's a reason for that Chris. Your talents weren't properly used from the beginning and then they just took advantage of you. They had you doing every house show and doing rounds of interviews and promotional tours with Eve, Maryse, Kelly Kelly and a whole bunch of other divas. You were hardly home. You didn't have time to focus on your family; not on the kids and not on me! I know we've been married for 12 years and it feels like forever, but I still appreciate a compliment every now and then and you used to give them so frequently. Now I have to pry them out of you. Jeez, it's like pulling teeth!"

She paused to catch her breath and Chris mistook this as the end of her rant and began to defend his decision. "Look Jess. I'm not saying that you're wrong because, yes, they did misuse my talents at first and yes, they have me doing a lot of shows and tours, but that's what brings in the crowds, baby. That's what helps me bring home the bacon."

"Ugh. You _know_ I hate bacon. But that's beside the point."

"Then what is the **point**?" Chris' voice rose an octave as his exasperation began to show.

"The **point** is that YOU are working yourself to death! For what? We have enough money to retire to some nice secluded island and never have to worry about our finances again. Instead of wanting to stay home and spend more time with me and the kids you want to go on the road again and travel. If it's not wrestling then it's touring with Fozzy! **When will you make your family your priority Chris**?" She bellowed the last question at him, and he was sure that the kids had heard it if they were in the house.

He decided that a screaming match was the last thing he needed at the moment, so he lowered his own voice and tried to sooth her. "Look honey, I love you. I love Ash and the girls. Trust me when I tell you that you guys are my #1 priority. But you've gotta understand something – _performing_ is in my blood. It's who I am! It doesn't matter if it's wresting in front a crowd of 70,000 or filming in front of a crew of 7, I LOVE PERFORMING! It's what I was born to do. Acting, singing, dancing, wrestling, being a TV host, being a radio talk show host, _hell_, even being an author, it excites me. And I _know_ that it excites my fans! You knew how passionate I was about performing when we met. Why do you suddenly have a problem with it?"

"Because, Chris, you're not in your twenties anymore. You're 41 and it's time you started **acting** like it. What are you trying to prove anyways? That you're popular? That's already obvious. What? Are you trying to 'cement your legacy' so that they'll put you into the WWE Hall of Fame? You already have that one in the bag Chris! For God's sake, you were the first **ever** **Undisputed** World Champion, a three-time World Heavyweight Champion, a multiple time Tag Team Champion, a **record-breaking** nine-time Intercontinental Champion! That's more than most people ever accomplish in their entire life and you did it in **nine years**! Of course your place in the WWE HoF is secure. Why would you wanna go back? Do you wanna end up like Adam, huh? Well, do you? Because guess what Chris, no matter how much he wants to, Adam **can't** wrestle again! If he does, he risks paralysis. Do you want that?"

Chris had heard enough. The dig about Adam's forced early retirement drove him over the edge. Adam Copeland had been a good friend for nearly two decades now; hell, he was practically a brother to him and Adam's news nearly broke his heart. The good-bye speech he gave on RAW brought tears to Chris' eyes and he couldn't imagine being in Adam's shoes. Edge would be sorely missed, if the crowd's "thank you Edge" chants were any indication of the fans' admiration and devotion to 'The Ultimate Opportunist.' The respect that everyone in the locker room had for the veteran was obvious when they had all gathered backstage to say farewell to the 11-time World Champion.

Would Chris want something like that when he retired? Absolutely. Would he want to be _forced_ to retire? Absolutely not!

There were risks associated with the job – that much was obvious to anyone who knew anything about wrestling. But then again, there was a saying, 'no risk, no reward.' And Chris had had a _very_ rewarding career in the WWE – thanks to some calculated risks he took, which paid off pretty well. He knew Jess worried about him – and she had every right to – but to throw it in his face any time an argument wasn't going her way was just unfair. Of course he didn't want to be paralyzed! He wanted to teach Ash how to play hockey and how to throw a curveball and play one-on-one b-ball with him. Not to mention that he had _two_ daughters that he planned on walking down the aisle. Not for a while, obviously, but still – he wasn't gonna _wheel_ himself down the aisle next to his daughter.

"You know what Jess? I am _sick_ and tired of hearing you talk about Adam's situation like that's what happens to everyone. I'm **sick** of you trying to make me feel guilty about not spending enough time with the kids. I'm **sick** of you trying to emotionally blackmail me into staying home all the time. I **love** my family but I also LOVE wrestling and music and both of those things were in my life **before you ever came along**," Chris fumed.

As soon as the words left Chris' mouth, he knew he'd made a mistake. A **huge** one. One that would haunt him for a long time to come. Yup, he'd pay for that one; _dearly_! One of the biggest unspoken rules about a marriage is that you **never** put anyone else, much less _any__thing_ else, before your spouse. EVER.

Chris closed his eyes automatically and shook his head. He held his breath as he waited for the outburst on the other end of the line. But it never came. He heard Jessica slowly exhale, as if she had been counting to ten in her head.

"Fine," Jess began in an eerily calm voice. "You want to go back to a life on the road where you only get to see your family two days out of the week? Great! You want to cancel some weeks because it's **inconvenient** to come home? Awesome! You want to pursue your acting, your music and your wresting career because you feel like your life is meaningless unless you're doing one of those things? Fan-tas-tic!" she enunciated each syllable as she spat the word out vehemently. "But don't think that when you come home you're gonna find a loving, adoring wife who'll pamper you and tend to you and worship the ground you walk on. You do this, you _choose_ to go back, then I'm done supporting you. Done! You hear me?"

The line suddenly went dead. She had disconnected without waiting for a response from him. It was probably a good thing because at the moment, he had none. None that would make the situation any better anyways. So he brought the phone from his ear to in front of his face and stared at it as if it were a foreign object. When he finally blinked, he realized that he needed to sit down. After what seemed like hours, he came to a decision and decided that he had to go through with it if he wanted to be happy. And life was too short and unpredictable to live in misery.

When he checked the time on his cell phone his eyeballs nearly fell out of their sockets. He was going to be late! And Stephanie hated being kept waiting! He needed to get ready NOW; he'd deal with Jessica later. Of course, he had anticipated traffic, but he wasn't prepared for the gridlock that had arrested his vehicle's movement for the last 45 minutes. It seemed as if he was inching forward and time was ticking away too swiftly.

…..

A loud honk brought Chris out of his reverie. He checked the rearview mirror and saw the driver behind him throwing out both hands to his side in a 'what's going on?' gesture, followed by a "go already" yell. When Chris looked ahead, he realized that the light had turned green and he was just sitting there – apparently daydreaming. Traffic had cleared ahead of him and he hadn't even realized it. All of the drivers behind him seemed anxious to get to their destinations as well. Checking the time, Chris panicked that it was already 1:32; Chris sent up a silent prayer that Stephanie hadn't chalked him up to a 'no-show' and left the café.

'Yup,' Chris thought to himself. 'This is gonna be one **hell** of a meeting.'


	3. Chapter 3

_Umm, not sure how chapter 2 turned out __**a thousand words**__ longer than chapter 1, but oh well. I know, I know, Chris and Steph haven't even met up yet. What can I say? I love suspense! Sigh… don't hate me. I promise it'll be worth the wait! Reviews would be greatly appreciated!_

**Disclaimer**: _I didn't have one in the first two chapters and I don't plan on putting it on every chapter. But seriously, come on, this is fanfiction we're writing. No one's making any profits and I obviously don't own the WWE or any of their characters. I just own the story idea. _

Stephanie resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the waiter approached her for what felt like the millionth time, but in actuality was the fifth time, since she first sat down. He seemed eager to take her order. Or maybe he was just looking for an excuse to talk to her. After all, she looked pretty damn good for a 35-year-old. Not to mention the fact that she had **three** kids in the last five years and still, her figure was intact. Of course, that was mostly thanks to the grueling workout sessions she had with her personal trainer, Anya. The woman was a beast! As unrelenting as a scorned wife… but she got results. In the end, that's what mattered.

"Vat is it you Amerikens say? 'No pain, no gain' Vell, you **vill** feel the pain! Zat burning sensation in your body means zat your muscles are vorking hard. If you vant to gain strength and lose ze baby fat, you vill push yourself and keep pushing until I say stop!"

Stephanie shook off the memory of Anya's motivational first speech. She looked up and saw that the waiter was _still_ there, notepad in hand, calmly waiting for her to finally pick something from the menu. She smiled what she hoped to be her winning smile and told him, _again_, that she was waiting for someone and that he was just running late. 'Incredibly late,' she thought to herself with annoyance. 'I'm gonna kill him when he gets here.'

'Maybe something happened. Maybe he tripped and fell in the shower or got hit by a car on his way here.' She smiled gleefully, momentarily enjoying the thought of bodily harm being the reason that was preventing Chris from coming to their meeting on time. The smile disappeared just as quickly as she realized how _wrong_ it was to wish bad things on someone who wasn't a bad human being, overall, and who happened to be almost a friend.

There was that "F" word again. She couldn't understand why it was so strange for her to think of him as a friend and to feel awkward about it. They were coworkers in the past and got along really well. They were certainly more than acquaintances, what with having shared not one, but _two_, onscreen kisses. Granted, they were scripted, but a kiss was still a kiss. So why was a friendship with him such a big deal?

Oh yeah. Because of those rumors. Those goddamn rumors about there being something more between them than a platonic friendship. Because God forbid two intelligent, good-looking people work together and have a friendly relationship without there being a physical one as well! Sure, they had plenty of onscreen chemistry, even when they were fighting. _Especially_ when they were fighting, actually. But that was just because they were two passionate individuals who happened to love what they did for a living and wanted to give the audience what they came for: a show worth talking about and money well spent.

Stephanie and Chris wanted to be 100% credible when they were in front of the cameras. Stephanie believed that if they had off-screen chemistry, it would translate and show as onscreen chemistry. So, in an attempt to ignite their chemistry, she had suggested that they get to know each other better – over meals. That way it wouldn't be awkward and formal, as it would be if they simply met in a room and asked each other questions – twenty questions style.

Of course, Stephanie hadn't anticipated the buzz it would create backstage. At first, the curious gazes of onlookers didn't bother her. She merely thought them nosy or bored, or both. She and Chris talked freely and laughed heartily as they shared stories of their past. When he walked away a little to get Jess' phone call, she didn't mind. Jess was his wife after all. And when she needed to excuse herself for a meeting with her dad or Shane or have a private conversation with Paul, he didn't seem to mind, either. But the crew and employees seemed to notice the sideways glances they'd give each other to make sure that the other wasn't becoming impatient with having to wait.

It was just a considerate gesture. Nothing romantic about it. And Chris was a gentleman. So there was nothing shocking about the fact that he would pull out a chair and help Stephanie whenever they sat together in catering and shared a meal. But people believed what they wanted to believe and Chris' simple gesture of courtesy was viewed as a sign of his growing affection for the boss' daughter. Never mind that he was married to someone else and she was practically married to another man. People gossiped about them nonstop.

It was one of these conversations that had altered Chris and Stephanie's relationship significantly. Stephanie was walking around the building, trying to find her dad's temporary office for the evening in the building that was housing Monday Night RAW this week. She was about to turn the corner when she heard a gasp.

"NO WAY! Stephanie McMahon and Chris Jericho? Really? I just thought they were friends. I mean, Steph's engaged to Paul and Chris is married. You really think they're having an affair?" Dawn Marie's incredulous voice reached Stephanie's ears and she stopped dead in her tracks.

She heard an audible sigh from another diva. "I know. I don't want to believe it either. But look at how much time they're spending together. He's always got her laughing and they share looks and speak with their eyes sometimes," Patricia Stratigias – better known as Trish Stratus – chimed in.

"That doesn't mean anything," a third voice said. This one belonged to Amy Dumas, better known as Lita. "They're working together onscreen so they're just trying to find a way to be comfortable with each other and make their chemistry believable in front of the camera. And you know Chris can be a flirt, but he's not a cheater. He would never do that to Jess. And Paul would kill him! Hell, Vince would kill him for destroying his baby girl's happiness and potential marriage to Paul. You know he loves Paul like a son!"

'Thank God for some common sense around here,' Stephanie thought. But she was quickly brought out of her momentary haze of happiness as yet another person voiced their doubt and concern.

"I don't know, Amy. It just seems like a bit much. It's one thing to get to know someone better so you can show more onscreen chemistry, but spending this much time together? She reminded him of his dentist's appointment last week and he reminded her to call Paul back since she had ignored his call earlier because they were in the middle of a discussion. Can you imagine that? Ignoring your **fiancé's** phone call to talk to a coworker? Don't tell me you don't find that strange!" Terri Runnels half-shouted.

Someone else blew out an exasperated breath as Stephanie held hers, glued to the spot, unable to move or speak.

"Come on guys," Torrie Wilson began. "We don't know anything for sure. Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill. They're both sweet people and they're in serious relationships – relationships that could be jeopardized or **end** because of false rumors. We shouldn't believe anything without proof and we certainly shouldn't spread it around."

Stacy Keibler had remained silent for quite some time, unsure of what to think or say.

Lisa Varon, aka Victoria, decided to throw in her two cents. "Well, I don't know what kind of proof you're looking for because if they **are** together, they're gonna deny it because they're with other people. And if they're **not** together, they're gonna be pissed off that we assumed they were. And I for one am not about to jeopardize my career by asking Stephanie **McMahon** if she's having an affair with Chris Irvine. And there's no way in hell that I would ask **him** about it."

Stacy finally spoke up. "Look girls, either way, it's none of our business. If something _is_ going on, then the only people who should be concerned are Chris, Steph, Paul and Jess. Why are _we_ worrying over something that doesn't concern us? And I'm with Lisa on this one; I don't wanna risk my job by asking either of them to confirm or deny these rumors."

Several grumbled "Yeah, I guess you're right" and frustrated and/or defeated sighs could be heard. The women decided to head to catering before heading back to the women's locker room and Stephanie was thankful that they weren't heading in her direction.

People thought that she was having an **affair** with Chris? They _actually_ thought that the two of them were **cheating** on their significant others? Stephanie's incredulous face and slack jaw were the first things that greeted Chris as he came up to her a moment later. He was about to greet her, but when their eyes connected, he stopped himself. Something was wrong. **Very** wrong!

**AN**: So I haven't really had much response from readers or reviewers, but I plan on finishing this story anyways. Sorry for the loooong delay, but life kind of got in the way Oh and Happy Christmakwanzukkah! lol (That's Christmas, Kwanza and Hanukkah, if you're wondering) Whatever it is that you're celebrating, have a wonderful holiday with your family and loved ones! Cherish those that mean the most and may the New Year bring nothing but happiness and blessings!


	4. Chapter 4

_Hmm… so _still_ only two reviews… but I was so excited to see that someone else had added this story to story alert (that would be _Lionel W_) that I decided to update. I try to keep the chapters relatively short; I feel it helps you not lose focus. This chapter is dialogue-heavy and is VERY important. Oh and don't worry; Chris and Steph will finally meet in the next chapter – promise!_

**Disclaimer**: Still don't own anything WWE related… darn!

Chris wasn't sure why Stephanie suddenly looked like a deer caught in headlights. Or why she was slowly backing away from him. He quirked an eyebrow and took a step forwards toward her. Instantly, she took one back. He took two more steps forward and she took two steps back. '_What the hell_?' Chris thought.

'_Why_ _is she backing away like I'm some sort of psycho stalker or as if I'm gonna hurt her?_'

He tried to decipher her emotions by gazing into her eyes but she seemed determined not to make eye contact with him. Deciding that he wasn't going to figure out what was wrong by simply looking at her, he decided that the best approach would be the direct approach.

"What's wrong Steph?"

Her head snapped up and she seemed startled, as if she had forgotten that he was right in front of her.

"What?"

"What's wrong?" he repeated.

"No- nothing. Nothing's wrong. Wh- why would you assume something was wrong?" Stephanie tried to chuckle and put on a convincing face, but her smile was strained and her voice had risen an octave.

"Hmm. Maybe because you're not very good at lying. Or maybe because you were stuttering and you **never** stutter. Or maybe because you keep backing away from me like I'm gonna hurt you, when you know I'd never do anything of the sort. Take your pick, but don't deny that something is wrong. Something is seriously off. What's the matter _princess_? Daddy freeze your trust fund?"

Stephanie scowled at the nickname. She hated being called a princess. Sure, it was fine when she was little. But she was a grown woman now! She was almost 26 and this was her place of work. She wanted to be treated with respect when she was among her colleagues. Chris knew this perfectly well. Why was he trying to push her buttons?

When Chris had asked his last two questions, he had asked them with a smirk on his face. His voice was laced with humor and he hoped that he'd be able to coax Stephanie into laughter. Maybe if he lightened up the situation, she'd relax and tell him what was really wrong. Of course, Chris hadn't anticipated that Stephanie would take the comments to heart. She didn't realize that he was simply teasing her.

"What's it to you, Irvine?" Her voice seemed laced with venom.

"Um, I was just wondering what was causing you to zone out and act all weird around me…"

"If you must know, Irvine, our colleagues are talking about us – and none of it is flattering."

"Why? What are they saying Steph?"

Stephanie winced. Should she just tell him what she had overheard? No, that would seem petty. Reacting this strongly to what a few coworkers had said didn't seem right. Besides, they were all women, so no doubt he would just chalk it up to women being women – chatty, catty and gossipy. Besides, she had eavesdropped on their conversation and she wasn't willing to admit that.

"Oh, you know, just how _cozy _we seem to be with each other and how _you're_ so considerate when it comes to **me** and how _I'm_ giving **you** extra attention."

Chris' eyes bulged. "What? That's ridiculous! I'm always considerate and you never give me extra attention. And how exactly are we _cozy_?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Stephanie muttered under her breath.

"What was that Steph?"

"Hmm…?"

"You mumbled something. I couldn't quite catch it."

"Oh, well, it's not important. What's important is this upcoming storyline with me and you."

"Oh yeah. I'm really excited about that one. I can't wait! Paul and I are gonna have an EPIC feud and with you thrown into the mix, this might become the most successful love triangle EVER! No offence to Kurt, but you two just didn't have the right chemistry. You two seem better off as friends."

Stephanie stared at Chris in shock. He was looking forward to this storyline? Was he going around telling people that he was excited? OH MY GOD… no wonder people thought they were having an affair!

Suddenly, Stephanie was gripped with a paralyzing fear of losing all the respect from the WWE Superstars and Divas that she had worked so hard to earn. No one would respect her if they thought she was a two-timing home-wrecking **whore**!

'No. No No. This can't be happening to me. Not when I've finally managed to show people that I can be just as good as Shane when it comes to the operational side of the business. Not when I've finally started to get respect around here. Not when Paul was getting ready to pop the question – he hadn't yet, but she could sense that it was coming, any day now!'

"Uh yeah. About that Chris… Creative has actually decided to go in a slightly different direction…"

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" Stephanie quickly searched her brain for a plausible excuse. "You just mentioned the whole love triangle thing with me, Paul and Kurt and while that certainly brought in ratings, it didn't exactly end well. Also, the writers feel like it's too soon to put me and Paul into another love triangle. I mean, we both had the 'jealousy' bit thrown in with Chyna (she refused to call her Joanie; it was too much of a normal name for a woman who claimed to be the 8th Wonder of the World, and had the muscles and strength to prove it; not to mention that she was Paul's ex – not that Stephanie wanted to take a stroll down memory lane when it came to _that_ topic), Eddie Guerrero, Kurt Angle and Trish Stratus. So, it's kind of 'been there, done that' when it comes to us being in a love triangle."

"So what are you saying? They're gonna postpone the storyline?"

"No Chris. They're gonna scrap it. We won't do the affair storyline."

"Are you serious? I thought Wrestlemania was setting up for that? So what? We'll just be business partners who get along really well now? And what about your onscreen divorce from Triple H? Are they scrapping that, too?"

"Um no. We're still getting divorced onscreen. It's just that, you and I aren't going to get together onscreen. Oh and I'm going to stop being your valet/manager."

"Huh? Why?"

"Well, you're actually going to lose the title to Paul at Wrestlemania."

Chris's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets. He couldn't believe his ears. Did he hear right? Did Stephanie just say that he was gonna drop the title to HHH at Wrestlemania? On the grandest stage of them all, in his home town, in front of his family and friends – all of whom had bought tickets so that they could be front row and cheer on Chris at his Wrestlemania victory – he was suddenly being told that he would **lose**?

Chris felt like he had been punched in the face and kicked in the stomach simultaneously. Confusion and hurt were quickly replaced by frustration and anger.

'_When the hell had the writers made all of these changes? And how come he didn't know about it?_'

Something akin to blind fury overtook Chris and he turned to his side and punched the wall. A sickening crack could he heard and Chris realized that he had probably broken his knuckles. A flash of searing hot pain surged though his hand and Chris grimaced. Stephanie quickly recovered from her shock when she heard Chris grunt and curse from the pain his hand was causing him. She immediately stepped forward and grabbed his wrist, stopping him from trying to shake out the pain by shaking his hand and clenching and unclenching his fist.

"You should put ice on that, right away!" she said in a no-nonsense tone.

…

"Would you like a refill?"

"Huh?" Stephanie snapped out of her reverie and looked up to see that the waiter had returned.

"Your drink, ma'am. All of the ice melted and you've barely had a sip. Would you like me to throw it out and get you a free refill?" He flashed her a brilliant smile and she returned it.

"Sure. That would be great. Thank you!"

"I'll be right back then."

Stephanie sighed as she watched him walk away. She checked her watched and realized that Chris was a whole _hour_ late. She looked up and quickly scanned the café, mentally plotting how best to deal with this insult, when her eyes landed on the door that was the entrance to the café. Just then, a frazzled Chris walked in and quickly found the closest waitress and walked over to her. He seemed to ask her something and she nodded. She turned in Stephanie's direction and pointed. Chris followed the waitress' pointing finger and his eyes settled on Stephanie. She had sat up a bit straighter when she had noticed him and he could clearly see – even from a distance – that she was shooting daggers at him via her eyes.

'_Well this should be good. I wonder what he'll use as his excuse._' Steph mused to herself as Chris began the slow march towards her table. Chris looked like a man walking toward an electric chair. The trepidation was evident in his steps and hunched shoulders. Stephanie masked her emotions and managed to keep staring him down as he approached closer and closer.

**AN**: So I'd really love some reviews. If you're reading this, please leave a quick response! It really brightens up my day! (That's why I've updated **twice** in two days!)


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